A Subsequent Phineas
by Nova-chan
Summary: The sequel to ASPH. Gene and Finny deal with their relationship in college, as well as thoughts on life, love of movement and crossdressing. Recent chapters, Finny stays out all night drinking...
1. Chapter 1

NoV: This is the sequel to A Separate Phineas. Let me know if I should continue!

--

I rolled nimbly across the hard floor and leapt to my feet. Phineas jumped over a folding chair and landed, straddling a girl named Emily, who had just fallen on her back on the floor. I made a running jump, just over Finny's arched back. Seconds later, he rolled off of Emily and they both took off in opposite directions, Emily running toward me. Emily jumped sideways, straight into me and I caught her, then dropped her. Then I ran and jumped into Finny, who caught and dropped me. Emily jumped over me and landed into a smooth somersault. Finny hopped up on my back and I fell forward into a crawling position. I lowered myself to the ground and rolled over on my stomach, on top of and then off of Finny. Emily very gracefully leaped and landed in the middle of myself and Finny.

Applause erupted from the dark recesses of the room. "Excellent work, guys!" our dance teacher, Dr. Zuckerman exclaimed. She stepped into the light surrounding the stage, pulling a strand of hair out of her face. "Now, who was your choreographer?"

Phineas and I, both out of breath and standing on the edge of the stage, pointed at a panting Emily. Our first dance project had been a free-range piece and Emily had wanted to try something called "Survival Dancing" or "Natural Reaction Dancing." Since Phineas and I were only freshmen and Emily a junior, we went along with her idea.

Yes, Finny and I had finally escaped the deadly clutches of high school and gotten accepted into a four-year college. Candidaes University was an hour's drive from our hometown. That meant, thank God, that we both had to move out of our parents' houses and onto the campus. We shared a dorm two blocks from the main classroom building and two miles from a grocery store and a strip mall.

I was the luckiest guy in the whole world.

After a lingering high school semester and a lengthy summer, Finny had managed to heal from his car wreck and get back to normal. That included his hair, which was now its natural golden blond color. He got his tan back, as well as his strength, his grace, and his love of sports, which, at the registrar's office, suddenly included dance.

"Very well done, Emily," Dr. Zuckerman praised. "I never thought you'd get these two off the ground," she joked, indicating Phineas and me.

Emily rolled her eyes when our professor turned around. She nimbly hopped off the stage, her skirt and brown hair flying up in the air, exposing her slender legs and creamy neck.

I saw that Finny was looking at her, but didn't worry about it. What did I care if he looked? At the end of the day, I was the one who got the share a room with him.

Finny jumped off the stage and I followed him. We headed out of the theater and toward the next building where we had speech class. We had worked on our schedules, trying to get as many classes together as possible. Unfortunately, we could only manage two out of five. After speech, I went to English composition, calculus and psychology. Finny went to remedial math, literature and philosophy.

Finny was chatting incessantly the whole five-minute walk to the English building. "So, I'm giving my speech today, right? You _di_d check for errors, didn't you?"

"Yes and yes," I replied, adjusting my backpack on my shoulder. He had decided to write a short biographical narrative about his car wreck. _I_ had been working on it all weekend.

We entered our classroom, commenting about the school's lack of parking spaces, just as our professor stepped up to his podium.

Professor Watts was a tall, brown haired man, who had less enthusiasm than Finny had an excess of it. "All right, for today, Phineas will grace us with his narrative." Professor Watts sat down and Phineas arrived at the podium.

Finny began to dramatically tell his tale about the car accident that furthered our romance. He didn't tell _that_, of course. As Finny's story went, he was in a coma for three months and woke up speaking fluent French. By the end of it, he had our normally mundane class riveted and speechless.

But, that's my Finny.


	2. Chapter 2

NoV: Ok, chapter two time!

--

After speech ended, Finny and I went our separate ways, vowing that no matter what, we would meet on row G of the parking lot at 3:15.

My English and calculus classes went as normal, with me randomly making notes and doodles on my paper. The fifty-minute classes seemed like fifty hours, thanks to my drolly-minded professors. My English composition professor was a grad student named Jason who was working toward his degree. I didn't understand why this qualified him to teach other people. My calculus professor seemed to be an eighty-year-old German man who knew way too much about math. I just wanted to get through the classes without dying of boredom.

My favorite class (without Phineas) was psychology. I didn't know until I started taking it that I was very interested in how the mind works. I was thinking about making it my major.

After calculus finally ended, I walked over to Buford Hall where I had psychology. It was a huge class of about four hundred students, so they had to seat us in an auditorium. I always sat at the far left, second row so I could see and hear, but still leave quickly when the class ended.

As the room quickly filled up, a girl sat down next to me. She had very curly brown hair and was very pretty. I might have dated her if not for Finny, and my……orientation. Her name was Tabitha, but I had to call her "Tibby." She had been sitting by me since the first day and we had worked on two or three papers together.

"Hey," she said, bubbling into her seat.

"Hey," I replied. "What's new?"

"Nothing," she automatically answered. "Well, actually this morning, my roommate caught our apartment on fire."

"Jeez," I remarked. "Did you put it out?"

"No," she joked, rolling her eyes. "It's still burning."

"Sorry, that was a stupid question," I said. "Did you lose anything?"

She sighed. "Yeah, my English paper. My roommate was trying to make noodles—for breakfast—on the stovetop, a few napkins were nearby, went ablaze and set the whole counter on fire. I told her to remind me to kill her when I get home."

"Well, don't forget," I insisted.

Our professor, Dr. Ramm, entered and began her lecture. We discussed the theory of anchors, an emotional tool. If I understand the concept correctly, an anchor occurs when you perform an action toward another person that triggers a sense-memory and emotional response. Say you had a friend whom you comforted when they started to cry. While you talked them through their problem, you placed your hand sympathetically on their shoulder. If they were a very emotional person, say they cried a few more times over the next few weeks for other reasons and you put your hand on their shoulder to comfort them each time. A few days later, you see them again, having a good day. You place your hand on their shoulder to greet them and they start to cry. That's a negative anchor.

The class ended and Tibby put her hand on my shoulder. "See you Monday," she said with a grin.

Finally the day was over and I achingly made my way to the parking deck on the south end of the school. I took the elevator up to good old row G and searched the perimeter for Phineas. There he was, dark sunglasses, sleeves rolled up, cowlicked hair, leaning against his favorite new toy: a brand-new mammoth-sized black truck. There had been no hope for the red car after the accident, so Mommy Adora took him to a car lot and let him have his pick. He chose a truck so if he wasn't paying attention, he could run over a curb without hurting the body of the vehicle. This was a keen innovation of his because Candidaes U. was downtown and filled with curbs.


	3. Chapter 3

NoV: Sorry it's taken so long, but I've had school and whatnot. Enjoy!

--

Gene

--

"Cheerio!" Finny greeted me, moving toward the driver's side of the truck.

"That reminds me: we need to buy groceries," I said, climbing into my side of the truck. A couple of empty soda bottles and napkins fell out of the door. "Finny, why do I get the feeling that you are _living_ in this truck?"

He cleared off a spot for me to sit. "Sorry, Mom," he said.

"So are we going to the gym tonight?" I wondered. A few nights a week, Finny and I worked out at the school gym. It was three floors of weights, aerobic machines and a full-sized swimming pool.

Finny pulled out of the parking space gracefully. "Actually, I'm meeting someone in the café," he replied, avoiding my eyes.

"Oh," I said. He was meeting someone? To eat? "Who is it?" I asked.

"It's this girl named Mallory," he said. "She's in my philosophy class. We're…..studying."

"You're being tutored?" I guessed.

"Well, yes," he answered. "I would ask you to help me, but you're in a psych class."

"Okay," I said. I didn't know why I felt weird about Finny spending time with a girl. He was with me and we were in love. There was nothing for me to worry about.

We pulled up to Bell Hall, our dorm house. I followed Phineas up four flights of stairs and into our room. Our dorm room felt like it was 5' by 5' with twin beds and a refrigerator squeezed into the small space. And of course, Finny's junk was piled into every remaining inch.

Finny threw his backpack onto his bed and jumped, landing beside it. He said, "I'm gonna rest a minute." He laid his head on the bed and covered it with his arms.

I sat on my bed, gathering a few books to study in peace for once. Not even ten seconds later, Finny shot up out of bed so abruptly that I jumped in surprise.

"Gotta go!" he announced, grabbing a notebook and jogging out into the hallway. He didn't bother to close the door, so I had to get up and close it myself. I turned on the radio on the way back to my bed and settled in for a good hour of studying.

--

Finny

--

I wove my body in between people on the sidewalk like a thread going through intermittently separate fabric. I was heading to the University Café and became very disappointed when I realized that I didn't recognize any of the several dozen faces I passed. I had been used to knowing all the people in high school, since we had all basically grown up together. In college, I only knew a handful of people, but I was methodically working on it.

Early in the fall, I had joined the track team and I got to know all the guys and gals that I ran with. I always loved track, so it seemed natural for me to keep up with it in college.

I did not, however, plan to keep up with skating on Tuesday nights. For one thing, Gene got upset every time I mentioned it. But mostly, I stayed away from it because of all the misfortune that stemmed from going there. I didn't fancy getting in a fight with Ollie (or anyone for that matter), I didn't enjoy having a broken leg for six weeks, and then having a concussion, which was actually a misdiagnosed coma that I stayed in for three months, no matter how many times Gene denies it. The only good thing that I got out of it was my newfound French fluency. Now I can order the wrong food on purpose in a French restaurant. I don't count my relationship with Gene as something that came from skating. That would have inevitably happened anyway. Now, I realize that once you've fallen off a horse, you're supposed to get back on, but _screw that_! That damn horse broke my leg, and I'm not letting some skating rink be the end of _me_! I can read the writing on the wall!

Crap, how did I get so sidetracked? What was I talking about? Oh right, the café thing with Mallory. That's a little boring compared to one of my engaging analogies. Wouldn't you rather hear one of those? No, no. All in good time.

Well, Mallory was always raising her hand to answer questions in philosophy class, so I figured she'd make a good tutor. She seemed impossibly shy, with an impossibly angelic face, and with her knowledge of philosophy, it would be impossible for me to fail another paper.

Stopping only to buy a soda from the drink machine, I waltzed into the café, where the only fresh things they served were the ketchup and mustard packets. I looked around for Mallory, who was sitting at a table with a Sprite, half-full, our philosophy textbook open to a page, a notebook open to a blank page, and a mechanical pencil pointing toward the notebook. She had obviously been waiting for awhile.

I sat down across from her, quietly setting my notebook down in front of me. "Hey, Mallo-Pallo," I greeted her with an innovative nickname.

She smiled. "Hi…..Finny-minny," she tried.

"Hey, my mom calls me that!" I protested playfully. She giggled and picked up her pencil. "So, what are we working on today?" I wondered, taking a sip of my drink.

"How do you feel about homosexuality?" she asked seriously.

To foil her solemnity, I spewed Dr. Pepper all over the table. She stared at me with amazingly huge eyes and an expression that said, "Good God!" I coughed and sputtered, then apologized, "Sorry. Did I get you wet?"

Her lip curled upward. "Is it something I said?" she wondered.

--

NoV: Okay, is that good? Forgive me if I've butchered Finny in his POV. It was my first time to write for him, and I worked on it for a long time. Let me know if it's no good, and I'll stick to Gene. Til' nexties!


	4. Chapter 4

NoV: Argh, it's getting harder and harder to find time to write this, but NEVER FEAR, I shan't let it go untended!

--

Finny

--

"Is it something I said?"

"Well the question startled me," I told her. "I'm gay."

She scared me by slamming her pencil down on the table. "I swear!" she yelled. I felt like she was going to hit me. "Every time I'm even kind of interested in a guy, he's either gay, or crazy, or rude or a drug addict!"

"Calm down," I whispered as she was gathering attention. "Believe me, I'm trying to get used to it too, but everyone doesn't have to know."

She calmed considerably and picked up her pencil again, twirling it around her fingers like a baton. "So, how _do_ you feel about homosexuality?"

--

After a few minutes of my "philosophy block," we decided that I might think more easily in my home environment. So, Mallory and I hiked up the sidewalk to mine and Gene's dorm room.

"Now I've gotta warn you," I said to Mallory as I tried to undo the Fort Knox-style locks on our door, "I've got a neat-freak roommate, but I'm a human landfill."

She smiled awkwardly. "It's the same story for me and my roommate, don't worry," she replied.

"If not for Gene, I would probably become trapped underneath my own trash and stuff," I added.

We entered the room itself, and I wondered if our pungent, yet delightfully fruity male-odor would scare her away. When we made it to our modest study table, I saw that she couldn't be scared off too easily, although she did stare at a pile of dirty clothes like they would attack her randomly.

She sat across from me, flipping her long, blond hair over her shoulder. She suddenly reminded me of a girl named Samantha, whom I dated in ninth grade.

"Most people have a negative view of homosexuality," she said, summarizing a portion of the book. "However, many philosophers would disagree, saying that it is morally permissible. Give three premises from either of these views."

"What's a premise again?" I wondered.

"It's the same as a reason," she told me.

"I think that I shall argue for pro-homosexuality," I said and she laughed. "I think being gay is 'morally permissible,' you said, because…..it's just who I am and I can't really change that, right?"

"Good," she said. "Two more."

"Um….well…."

"Let me give you a reason from anti-homosexuality and you can debate it okay?" she offered. I nodded. "Let's see……" She scrolled across her page. "Homosexuality is immoral."

"So is lying," I said. "But we don't discriminate against liars. And, who says that it's immoral in the first place? Just because popular opinion decrees something doesn't make it true."

She blinked. "What do you need me to tutor you for?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Finny, you have the heart of a philosopher," she said, placing her hand on mine. "Just apply your instincts to the class and you'll have it!"

"So, my answer was correct?" I wondered.

"There is no 'correct' for everyone," she told me. "There is only logic and debate. You've got that."

"You're confusing me," I said. "Let's watch TV."

--

NoV: Whew, I know it's a short update but I'm trying! .


	5. Chapter 5

NoV: Sorry dears. I wish I had more time to do this. This is the first time in like a month and I half since I've updated, but I've had a string of really hard math tests and really evil

English papers. But, my summer vacation is approaching when I shall have nothing but ASUPH time! MUAHAHAHAHA!

On to the fic!

Dedicated to David, the Asian Finny, my new muse. .

--

Gene

--

When Phineas left me, I began to feel lonely, so I ventured off to the gym alone. After a good solitary work-out and a dozen laps around the pool, I felt much better and more capable of writing an essay about abnormal psychology. Finny would make a wonderful example for the paper.

I took the elevator up to the dorm. After working out, I didn't feel guilty for cutting corners a little bit. Sighing in remembrance of a looming test coming up in fourteen hours, I unlocked the door to our dorm room. I wasn't thrilled per se when I saw Finny and some blond girl sitting on the floor laughing. Neither of us had ever had a girl alone with one of us in the dorm before, as far as _I_ knew.

However, not being one to leap into conclusions, I calmly said, "What's going on?"

Finny gained something like his composure and uttered, "We were watching LINGO and Mallory did this Chuck Woolery impression—"

"—and then Finny said, 'Shh! Here comes Gene! Quick turn it off! He's scared of wool!'" Mallory added.

They both started laughing again as I just stood there, eyebrow cocked.

"You woulda had to be there," Finny shrugged.

"Or been on this floor. I think the dust has fogged up our brains," Mallory said. She stood up carefully and proceeded to say, "Well, I should go. Promised my roommate I would cook tonight."

"Oh my god, I wish my roommate would cook for me," Finny said in a comically gay voice, making Mallory giggle. "See you Mal!"

"Bye you guys," Mallory said. "Um, nice to meet you—Gene, right?"

"Yeah, good to meet you too," I said with a wave. With an impish little smile, Mallory left the dorm, plunging Phineas and I into silence.

"Where were you, huh?" Finny wondered after a minute or so. He wasn't really concerned, just curious. I knew this because instead of waiting to hear my response, he traveled over to his bed and plopped down onto the Batman sheets. One of Finny's goals in life was to tie Batman into his profession somehow. My goal was to make sure that he failed.

"I just went to work out for a little bit," I replied, coolly. "You know, if I skip a day I feel like crud."

"I love you," he said with a sparkling expression.

"That's a strange thing to say," I remarked. I didn't understand why he would say that all of a sudden. I loved him too, but I wasn't all that comfortable just coming out and saying it with no enticement.

"Why is that a strange thing to say?" he demanded, sitting up. "I can't help it if I'm impulsive!" He was beginning to sound like a nagging middle-aged wife, with a little Finny spirit.

"All right," I said, waving him off. "Don't get all disconcerted. You know I can't resist you when you're disconcerted." I gave him a look and his eyes shimmered.

"Well, naturally," he said with that old Finny charm. "I am the most irresistible person in this room."

"Well, now don't start to get cocky," I playfully replied. I sat next to him on his bed. "I also cannot resist you when you get cocky."

"The last thing I want is for you to not be able to resist me," he said confusing himself and me as we inched closer and closer together.

"Too late," I said going in for the kill.

I imagined in amusement what the passersby in the hallway must have thought when they heard distinct and indiscernible sounds being emitted from our room, including Finny's giggling and the sound of his bed creaking under our weight..

--

Finny

--

It's not what you think. Gene and I didn't partake in a wild sexual romp that afternoon. It was merely two close friends engaging one another in meaningful playtime. Hey, I don't ask other people about their private matters, and I don't like to divulge mine to anyone.

Sometime later as I actually pulled out a textbook and skimmed through it, Gene sat down on his bed with a notebook and a cup of coffee. I honestly had no idea why he would start drinking coffee. Maybe he wanted to be more energetic or something.

Anyway, a few moments later, I looked up at him to find that his was looking at something on the floor. I followed his line of sight to something pink crumpled in the corner. He curiously stood up and went over to pick it up as I realized exactly what it was. However, by the time I jumped up to my feet, it was too late. Gene was already holding the obscure piece of clothing in his hand.

"Finny….." he said accusingly. "Whose panties are these?"

--

NoV: Whose panties indeed! That was a longish update, huh? Well enjoy!


	6. Chapter 6

NoV: Ahh! Another update? So soon? The stars must be aligned right or something….

Still dedicated to David, the Asian Finny, my new muse.

--

Gene

--

I didn't have to ask whose panties they were. I knew that they had to be Mallory's. I stood there, arms crossed, staring at Phineas' panic.

As I was just about to turn around and leave him, he sighed and quietly said, "They're….mine…."

My first reaction was outrage. How dare he lie to my face! "Finny, don't you lie to me!" I yelled. "Just admit that they're Mallory's so we'll know where we stand."

"Mallory?" he repeated. "What does she have to do with anything?"

"You know exactly what!" I accusingly said. "You're nothing but a two-timing—bisexual whore!" He looked hurt at that. Good. "I bet she doesn't even know about us……" I got quiet all of a sudden and felt a little badly for yelling at him.

He slowly turned to his chest of drawers in the corner and opened the top drawer. I thought he might be reaching for a gun at first, but instead he pulled out half a dozen pairs of pastel panties.

"Oh my god, Finny, they _are_ yours!" I cried, ashamed that I could accuse him of cheating with Mallory. "Oh my god, Finny, you wear those? Why?"

"I like them!" he whined, embarrassed of his underwear, yet still defending them. "They're…..comfortable…."

I blinked at the article in my hand. "How?" I asked.

"I just went to the store and bought them—"

"No," I interrupted, "I mean how are they comfortable?"

"Does that matter?" he wondered. "Why is it such a problem that I like wearing feminine underwear?"

"It's not," I said.

"Okay then," he said pouting.

"Fine," I added.

We stared at one another for a few minutes before I said, "Oh come on, Finny! It's one thing to be gay, but it's another thing entirely to wear girls'—oh my god, this all stems from that pink shirt, doesn't it?"

"Maybe it does!" Finny raised his voice. "So what? Maybe tomorrow I'll wear a dress! What do you think about that?"

"Sure, fine," I agreed, holding up my hands defensively. "And while you're at it, why don't you grow your hair out long and have a doctor remove the only thing keeping you a man and then no one will have anything to say when we get married."

"Are you proposing?" he wondered, his guard completely dropped.

"No…..not that I don't like you, though," I said, flustered. "Just….whatever…."

"I'll pick the colors!" he announced. "I think we should both wear pink!"

"Finny, be serious," I ordered. "Go….do your homework or something."

"I love you, Gene."

"Okay."

--

NoV: Whoop whoop! Another chapter is up! Review and you'll make my day.


	7. Chapter 7

NoV: Lalalalalala!

Furthermore dedicated to David, the Asian Finny, my semi-new muse. .

--

Gene

--

Sometime a week or two later that fall, I was patiently awaiting the sound of the microwave beep to let me know that my leftover pizza was ready, when I instead heard a knock on the door. Finny had been out for about an hour putting up fliers for an upcoming track meet, so I figured that he had forgotten his keys and wanted to be let in.

I trudged over to the worn door and unlocked it. Opened it. Instead of my friend, I was met by a delivery man. "How you doing?" he wondered, preoccupied with a clipboard that he wanted me to sign.

I did and said, "Fine," as I heard the microwave beep.

He handed me a medium-sized box. "Have a nice day," he murmured, taking back to the hallway.

I looked at the box, trying to feel its weight in my hand. It was addressed to "Phil. Finny," which disturbed me. While he sometimes used aliases, it was never to purchase something on-line or in a magazine. Several images went through my head as I pondered what could be inside the box. I imagined drugs, porn, hundred dollar bills, diamonds, anything illegal or scandalous. I tended to think the worst in situations, particularly when they involved Finny. That was probably because he always maintained his enigmatic nature, and even though I lived with him and had known him for years, I still didn't have the slightest clue as to what he might do next.

I set the package on our desk and sat down, staring at it. I reached for a pair of scissors, debating whether I should open it or not. My decision was made for me when the door sprung open to reveal Finny himself.

"What, don't you lock the door?" he wondered, tossing his backpack into a random corner. "What if I were a madman? Right now, you could have a stomach full of a rusty knife." He walked toward his bed.

"When did you become so concerned about my gastric affairs?" I asked, putting the scissors back in the drawer.

"So, whatcha been doin?" he inquired, sitting on his bed with his elbows resting on his knees.

"Nothing," I said shrugging. "Microwaving some pizza."

He kept staring at me while he hummed a strange tune. When he began to bounce back and forth I abruptly said, "Package came for you."

"Really?" he asked, wide-eyed. He jumped off his bed, shouting, "I'm so excited!"

I handed him the box, hoping he wouldn't implode before getting it. "Why are you so hyper?" I asked, beginning to get annoyed.

"You let me have candy for breakfast, remember?" he said, feeling for the end of the packaging tape on his box.

"Oh yeah," I said, reminiscing that unfortunate mistake of mine. "That was not smart of me."

He pulled the tan-colored tape off of the top of his box, while I sat, wondering why he was letting me watch him since he probably had a severed head in there or something.

I raised an eyebrow when he swiftly pulled the object out of the box.

--

NoV: Weird cliffhanger. Til nexties!


	8. Chapter 8

NoV: Weeee!

Now dedicated to myself because Asian Finnies and no longer fun!

--

Gene

--

To my astonishment and somewhat to my disappointment, he held up a plain blue T-shirt that said, "Meat is Murder." He showed it off to me, holding it up against his body and said, "So, what do you think?"

"I think you're nuts," I blankly replied. "What, you're off meat now?"

"Yes," he said proudly. "Do you know what they do to animals that are raised for food?"

"Yes, they kill them," I answered. I returned to my bed, knowing that he was going to try to push his vegetarianism off on me. "What got you started on this kick?"

"My philosophy class," he said. "We watched a video the other day about factory farms and slaughterhouses." He shuddered. "It was horrible!"

I sighed. "So what? There's lots of horrible things in the world! People get horribly killed everyday! What can you do about that?"

"I didn't say I was pro-murder," he argued. "Almost everyone is against killing people. But, almost everyone is for killing and eating animals, and I think it's wrong!"

"Finny, you can't just agree with whatever whim you get out of your philosophy class," I told him. "You can't all of a sudden start forming opinions because of something your professor says."

"Yes, I can!" he cried. "Now that I know the truth about factory farming, I can honestly form a true opinion about them."

"Well, I like meat, so you're not getting me to stop eating it," I said bluntly.

"Which is worse? The awful suffering of animals living in cramped conditions without proper food or exercise, or people living healthier lives, but denying themselves the pleasure of one food group?"

"People come first before animals and plants," I said. "Besides, vegetarians are always sickly looking."

"That's not true," Finny reasoned. "Vegetarians are much healthier than omnivores. Meat causes all sorts of diseases, like heart conditions, pork causes tapeworms, meat is a primary factor in obesity cases—"

"Okay, you win," I conceded. "Go be a vegan for all I care. But, I choose the life of an omnivore."

"Fine," he said, "murderer."

"Hey, I let you do what you want, so don't try making me feel guilty," I said, angrily.

He lay on his back on the floor and began to do sit-ups. "If you knew the animal your meat came from, you wouldn't eat it."

"Well, thank goodness I don't know any slaughterhouse animals, then," I said coolly.

--

NoV: No, this isn't a public service announcement. This chapter does have something to do with the plot of this story…..hehe…..Finny panties…..


	9. Chapter 9

NoV: TWO UPDATES IN ONE DAY? ….is this the apocalypse?… 

--

Dedicated to my favorite air hockey opponent, Rachael.

--

Finny

--

I expected Gene to oppose my new diet at first. Eventually, he would understand why I couldn't let the plight of suffering animals continue without my help. Roughly, if I never ate meat again, I could save one hundred and six thousand animals from a cruel life and a senseless death. The intensity of the films we watched in philosophy had shaken me. I felt crummy for eating meat my entire life. The only way to atone for my past of evils was to cease my meat-eating habit and try to convince others to join me.

I tried a tofu recipe later that night, must to Gene's disgust. I mixed some steamed veggies and fried tofu in ramen soup broth and it was actually pretty good. Gene ate unhealthily as usual with his leftover meat-lovers pizza.

I went to sleep that night with a cleared conscious and a stomach full of health food.

--

When I woke up the next morning, my alarm clock had been going off for about twenty minutes. It was 9:15. Practical dance class started at 9:30 and Gene had already left. I banged my fist on the clock and rolled back up in my blankets.

--

I next woke up at 11:56. I stretched and wondered what class I was supposed to be in the middle of. Shrugging in solitary query, I got up to make breakfast. I made a very strange tofu and pepper omelet.

I decided that quiet reflection and internet surfing were much more valuable than going to class, so that's what I did. It was definitely not a good thing that my college professors didn't count absences. So, I spent my day glued to the computer screen and getting in and out of bed. At around two-thirty I began to feel nauseous and light-headed. I attributed it to inactivity and devoted myself to accompanying Gene to the rec center when he got home. Moments after this decision, I climbed into bed and fell into a restless slumber.

--

Gene

--

When I got back to the dorm, quite irritated that Phineas had skipped all his classes that day, I found him in bed. I wondered if he had been asleep all that time until I saw that the computer had been turned on and was stuck on a vegan website. After slinging my backpack into the corner, I stared at Finny. His face was red and contorted into a look of displeasure.

I prodded him and said, "Wake up, you underachiever."

His eyes trembled and opened. He shivered and said, "I don't feel good…."

"Probably because you skipped school today," I reminded him. "You feel bad and you should be ashamed."

"That's completely illogical," he retorted. "I would never feel remorse for ditching class." He pulled his blanket over his head and curled up in it.

"So, I guess you don't want to go work out today, then?" I wondered. When he didn't answer me, I went on to my homework.

--

That night I woke from my sleep when I heard Phineas stumbling out of bed and then throwing up in the bathroom. I sat up and waited for him to return. Ten minutes later he still hadn't come back, so I went to see if he was okay. I was jolted into alertness when I saw that he had collapsed to the floor. His breath came in struggling wheezes and his face was redder than before.

I called for an ambulance, and prayed that his symptoms weren't drug-related.

--

Four hours later it was 3:20 in the morning, and I had a test at noon. However, all fear of impending exams fled my mind when Finny walked out of the ER hallway. I hopped out of my chair, nearly toppling over from my stiffness and rushed to meet him.

"Are you okay?" I asked, looking into his healthy-looking face.

"I'm better than fine," he said. Then my jaw dropped as he uttered, "I'm pregnant!"

--

NoV: WHAT? Of course you know he's being silly. ………isn't he?


	10. Chapter 10

NoV: Oh my goodness, this _is_ the apocalypse…..

--

Still dedicated to Rachael, the female Gene…..except not quite so naughty….or homosexual….

--

Finny

--

"I'm pregnant!" I exclaimed and giggled at Gene's look of confusion.

Once he got over the shock of my statement, he flatly said, "What do you think you're Arnold Schwarzeneggar?"

I laughed and did my best impression of the man, saying, "I vill name him Junior."

"Seriously," Gene continued, "what was wrong with you?"

"They said that I'm very allergic to soy," I told him, shrugging. "Apparently, that's what tofu is made of."

Gene rolled his eyes. "Do you see what vegetarianism gets you?"

"A lovely stay in the hospital and a grand stomach pumping?" I suggested.

"Exactly," he said.

"What is my unimportant day of suffering compared to all the years of cruelty to animals in factory farms?" I mused. "After all, I can deal with simple inconveniences and pains, but the animals have never known anything but—"

"Okay, time for Gene to go home and sleep before he becomes crabby," he muttered, leading me to the exit.

"Tis a far, far better thing I do—"

--

I felt much better when I got back into bed. I snuggled beneath my blankets for about the twelfth time that day and prepared to sleep for the next fourteen hours or so. I still felt a little queasy, but every hour it got a little better. I hadn't really had my stomach pumped. I just thought that it added a little drama to the situation. Gene probably didn't believe me anyway.

--

NoV: Ahhh….three chapters in one day…..(is fulfilled)


	11. Chapter 11

NoV: La-dee-da, I should be studying for my math final, but what has math ever done for me? Anyhow, about the lack of angst, I didn't even really think of it. But, darnit, we're overdue, aren't we? Never fear. Soon there will be angst…..sooooo much angst….muahaha… 

Finny&Gene: (quietly flee the room)

NoV: OF course I don't own ASP. I also don't Moulin Rouge, although I would DIE to!

--

Still dedicated to Rachael, a mixture of Finny and Gene. All the good, none of the bad.

--

Gene

--

The next morning after getting a total of three and a half hours of sleep, I awoke to a dreary, rainy day. Finny hadn't even set his alarm clock, so I assumed that he planned on another stressful day in bed. Despite what plans he may have had, after I dressed and gathered my books together, I shook him awake.

"Finny, wake up," I said.

He mumbled.

"Come on and get up," I insisted, pushing his upper body into a vertical position. "You've got to drive me to class. It's raining."

He slumped. "Why don't you just drive the truck? Keys are in my pocket in my pants on the floor." He lay back down.

I reminded him of an instance when I _had_ driven a car of his. One day back before I got my license, I had been riding around with him trying to find some girl's house. We stopped at a drug store because he needed to go to the bathroom but we got stuck behind a car in the middle of an aisle of cars. Unable to fight his urges anymore, Finny had jumped out of the car, raced past the other driver and into the store to relieve himself. When the other car moved, I attempted to park the car and accidentally turned off the engine without putting it in park. Finny returned to find that his car wouldn't start.

"I really had to go," Finny said. "Besides, you know how to drive now, Just park it somewhere safe and let me sleep."

"I just don't feel comfortable driving your cars!" I explained. "Now, get up before I'm late. It wouldn't kill you to put on your pants and go to class too."

He groaned dramatically and got up. "Fine, but if I get bored, I'm going to get up and leave."

"Whatever you want, just drive me to class," I pressed.

He stumbled out of bed, grabbing his pants and a notebook, and going out the door. I followed him, saying, "Finny, you can't walk into class with pants in your hands when all you're wearing is shorts."

Once in the truck, Finny appeared ready for class. His pants were being worn and his hair had been combed. He started the engine and pulled out of the dorm parking lot. He turned on his windshield wipers and the radio and focused on driving for about two seconds. Then apparently agitated with a talkative morning show, he placed his knee precariously under his steering wheel while he searched for a CD.

When we began to get dangerously near to a mailbox, I politely said, "Finny please keep at least one hand on the steering wheel. It's only five minutes to the building, can't your CD wait?"

"No, it can't," he insisted. Finding the one he wanted, he stuck the CD into the player.

I wrinkled my forehead when I heard the familiar tunes from _Moulin Rouge_. "You bought the _Moulin Rouge_ CD?" I asked.

"Yeah, so?" he replied.

"It's just weird," I admitted. After a moment, I wondered, "What happened to the athletic, brawny Finny I used to like?"

He grinned and said, "He turned into the cheerful, mercurial and very fantastic Finny that you love!"

"Well, who am I to argue with that?" I smiled.

"Do I have to go to class?"

"Yes."

--

NoV: Yay! New chapters make the world go round!


	12. Chapter 12

NoV: Argh….well, waging the war on animal cruelty takes up a lot of time, but here's a new chapter that I pieced together.

--

Dedicated to Doris, a victim of animal cruelty whose struggle truly touched me. E-mail me for her story.

--

Finny

--

I sat there for endless summations of sixty seconds. Gene sat beside me in the theater, diligently taking notes from a woman that I had ceased to listen to. I stared into the back of the stage, taking in the details of the curtains, the lights, the "hidden" speakers disguised as rocks for whatever performance the acting class was putting on. I remembered the last time I had been on a stage, the day before I had had the car wreck. I could hardly recall any of the words from the songs that I had written, but I did remember the thrill of being in front of an audience, screaming, jumping and supporting me. I missed it.

"Gene," I whispered, poking my friend in the arm.

"What?" he replied, a little annoyed, glancing at the professor to insure that she hadn't heard us.

"Do we still have the guitar and the bass and all that in storage?" I wondered.

"Oh, not now!" he insisted. "Only bother me for emergencies."

I mouthed his words in mockery and returned to my business of daydreaming. Brinker was off at Sumiton, Ollie at the University of Miami, and Leper, our secretly smart man was at Yale. If by chance we could persuade them to join us at Candidaes for a band reunion, it would almost certainly have to wait until the end of the semester. My determinacy, however, would not let me cut my losses and move on.

Over the next few days, I asked around to see if I could determine which people would be suitable replacements for our veteran band players. Gene was less than thrilled that I was "starting that again."

In my philosophy class one day, I happened to mention my campaign to Mallory. When I asked her if she knew anyone who could play the keyboard, she enthusiastically replied, "Sure, my roommate's been playing the keyboard for years. She was in a little band in high school, but that didn't last."

"Really?" I asked. "Do you think she'd be interested in joining our band?"

"Maybe. Let me give you her number." She tore off a piece of paper from her notebook, wrote down a cell phone number and gave it to me. "But she and I come as a package," she warned. "If she decides to be your keyboarder, you'll have to find a place for me."

I grinned. "All right. Maybe I'll teach you how to play the drums."

--

NoV: How's that? Will Finny get the band back together or fail miserably?


	13. Chapter 13

NoV: I'm a vegan and loving it! I don't own James Blunt, or his songs. .

--

Finny

--

I stared blankly out of our multi-story window and glanced at a V-shaped flock of geese. Mallory was bringing her roommate over to be "interviewed." I still hadn't met the girl, but Mal assured me that she was "the best." My friend Adam and his band usually played on Friday and Saturday nights at a club called "Zig Zag" and he told me that we could probably get a gig there as well. I wanted to get Mallory familiar with the bass and at least teach her the basic cords. If Mallory's roommate was good at the keyboards, we would have the main sounds covered.

As long as Gene didn't up and quit.

I looked up from the window when the man of the hour came into the room. From the look of him, he had been at the gym for the last hour and a half.

"Hey babe, how was the work-out?" I wondered.

"Tiring," he said, out of breath. I could tell he had taken the stairs instead of the elevator up to our room. "Don't call me babe."

"Ah, come on!" I exclaimed. "I call everybody babe."

Mallory burst into the room. Gene had left the door ajar. "You never call me babe," she protested. "Knock, knock."

"Well, hey, babe!" I said. "You remember Gene." I stood up and went over toward her. "Where's your roommate?" Gene looked confused, so I explained the situation, saying, "Mal's bringing her roomie, who is supposed to be a keyboard prodigy."

"Ah," was all he said. He went over to his bed and put on his headphones.

"Tabitha is coming. She's circling the block for a parking spot," Mallory explained. "There is never anywhere to park on the whole damn campus!"

"I know, it's crazy!" I said. "So, is she bringing her own keyboard?"

"Yeah, she has an old one that's been banging around in the trunk for weeks."

"Does she need me to help her carry it?" I wondered, seemingly a gentleman.

"Nah, it's lightweight," Mal told me.

"Hello?" a voice wondered from the hallway.

"Come on in!" I said. "I hope that's her," I mentioned afterward.

Mallory laughed. "Yeah, it is."

Tabitha entered the room, bringing a black and white keyboard in with her. It was some off brand that I had never heard of. "Hello, hello," she said. "You must be the famous Finny that everyone keeps on talking about."

I shrugged comically. "I wouldn't know about that," I told her.

"Tibby?" Gene wondered. I looked over at him and he put down his headphones. "I didn't know that you were Mallory's roommate!"

Tabitha, "Tibby," countered with "I didn't know you were Finny's roommate!"

"You two know each other?" Mallory wondered.

"Yeah, Mal, this is that guy from my psychology class that keeps on needing help with all those papers," Tabitha clarified.

I snickered at Gene's embarrassment.

Mallory said, "Oh, yeah, the one that you're always meeting at the library to tutor before a big test."

"Well, it's not really tutoring," Gene differed. "We kind of help each other….right?"

"Okay, whatever helps you get to sleep at night," I said, laughing.

"Fine, so I had trouble in one subject," he pouted. "How many subjects have I had to help _you_ with so far, huh?"

"Well all of them," I admitted. "But that's why it's so strange. You're Mister A+. You're always getting perfect scores on everything!"

"That's because I always study and when I realize I need a little extra help, I get it," he said. "Now let's talk about something else—anything else, before I have an aneurysm!"

"So, Tab," I said, "you wanna set up your keyboard and play something for us."

"Sure," she said, "and it's Tibby." She went about finding a plug.

"Oh, sorry," I said.

"So, what do you want me to play?" she asked, sitting in front of the keyboard on the floor.

"Oooh, I get to pick?" I wondered. "Umm….play that song I heard the other day on the radio….."

"You're going to have to be more specific," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"Play anything you want," I said simply.

"I can play 'You're Beautiful,' James Blunt, right?" she said.

"Yeah, play that, can you sing it too?" I asked, getting excited.

"Why don't you sing it, you know the words, right?" she said.

"Yeah, that works."

She placed her fingers over the keys and began to play the familiar melody. Now, I'm no James Blunt, and I don't claim to have a voice like his, but I did know the words, so I sang along.

From "My life is brilliant…." to "I will never be with you…" Tibby and I were in perfect harmony and I knew that she was the only person I wanted to replace Brinker in the band.


	14. Chapter 14

--Tweaked a little-- NoV: Another day, another chapter. . 

--

Finny 

--

I tried calling Brinker again for the fourth time that week. I wanted him to know that he had been replaced, and that it was only temporarily, but I could never get him. I didn't want to leave a voicemail since it was so impersonal. I wanted to hear his actual reaction to the news. Leper and Ollie had been easier to get a hold on. Leper had been ecstatic to learn that he would never have to adorn a stage in front of people again. Ollie was very much into his studies and was grateful that I called.

Mallory had been quick to pick up on the techniques of the bass, and I had arranged for practices every three nights. That meant that no one's schedule could possibly be violated every week and no one was allowed to miss _every _session. Gene was the only one who seemed unhappy with the arrangement.

--

Gene

--

Finny always had a very stable way of interrupting anything I could perceive as proper. For example, whenever I decided that studying would be imperative to my grade point average, he always knew just exactly how to foil my plan. First it was the lemonade stand back in the second grade. Then it was karate lessons, then soccer, then skating, and now it had become the band once again. I had hoped that with our last gig, we had buried that ominous and provoking music forever. But of course, Finny had built up a fan base with his flyers and addictive word of mouth. Now I had become involved in the charade once again and I feared that once I had gotten roped in far enough, I would never escape Phineas' hypnotic hold.

It is dangerous to have a charming nature as powerful as that of Phineas.

Our first practice was less than predictable. We all met at the rec center in one of the empty multi-purpose rooms. I could tell that Finny was back in his element. He was wearing a black t-shirt from the old days that he hadn't worn ever since we'd been in college. In fact, I had assumed that he'd thrown it out. He was excitedly buzzing around, attaching cords and setting up drums and spilling lively chatter. It had taken the two of us four trips to bring in all the instruments, excluding Tibby's keyboard.

"Ready, Gene?" he wondered with an insane-looking smile.

"Okay," I replied, with a shake of my head.

Assuming his position at the drums and checking to make sure that the rest of us were ready with our instruments, Finny cried, "5-6, 5-6-7-8!" and we began.

I must admit, I was surprised by the sound created that day. While our first band had always emitted a somewhat guttural, hard core sound, with two girls thrown into the mix, it sounded pretty much like it had the makings of one of the songs on the radio. Mallory surprised me the most, having gotten the hang of the bass guitar in only a few days. I was happy to find that I remembered most of the chords for my guitar.

Once we had played the first song, Finny ran over to me and said, "Well?" with a brimming excitement that he could barely contain.

"I've gotta admit," I said, "I've got the fever again."

He could no longer keep his excitement to himself, for he jumped and latched onto my shoulder in an outright display of giddiness.

--

NoV: Excelente, another chapter carved in the stone of 


	15. Chapter 15

NoV: Thanks to those of you who encouraged me to continue! Sorry it's been so long. 

--

Gene

--

My senses dulled, the images around me blurry and painful to bring into focus, I resigned to intentionally miss a day of classes.

Phineas, who always managed to act as my extreme opposite, deigned to go to his classes for once. Never one to believe in sickness, even if it were his own, he insisted that my fluish symptoms were merely allergies. "It's the change of seasons," he said, meaning to be clever. "You have one day like this every time the weather takes a drastic change, but you always forget about it and I have to remind you. You're impossible." At this point, he was pacing over me while I lay in bed, covered up to my nose. "Last time you said you were dying. You said you wouldn't live to see another day."

I stopped him in a nasally voice, saying, "I said no such thing."

"You wrote a will," he reminded me with a smirk. "I think I still have it, in fact."

Instead of responding, I rolled my eyes. There's no fighting Finny's logic when I'm sick.

Gleeful that I had no further rebuttals, Phineas picked up his skimpy backpack and said, "Well I'd better not be late on the only day I go to classes."

"Yeah, they'd be like 'Who is this person interrupting us?'" I added.

He smiled and left, precariously locking the door behind him.

I sighed, relieved, as I snuggled into my blankets. As much as I loved Phineas, at times I would give anything to have some time to myself. Perhaps after a short nap I would actually have a couple of hours to study. I was falling way behind in psychology and I couldn't stand the disapproving look on the professor's face when she handed back tests or papers.

It seemed that I had only closed my eyes for a moment when Finny came cheerfully in the door. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was already 3:45. I groaned in anguish, realizing that I had slept away my whole day of studying.

As I attempted to bury myself in my bedsheets, Finny shook me, gently at first, but then quite roughly as he saw that he couldn't get my attention.

"What, what?" I demanded, by voice distorted by the shaking.

"You'll never believe who I ran into!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, god, please tell me you didn't bring Mal and Tib over for band practice," I whined.

"Nope, they were busy," he said.

Brinker at that point walked into my line of sight. "Hey, Gene, long time, no see, nor call, nor e-mail," he said, grinning.

"Oh, Brinker, it _has_ been a long time!" I exclaimed, sniffling.

"Finny told me you weren't feeling good, but he made me come up here anyway," he said almost apologetically.

"What are you doing up this way, anyway?" I wondered.

"Surprise!" he said. "I'm transferring here!"

"I told Brinker he could move in with us until he finds an apartment. Isn't it exciting?" Finny cried.

"I—uh—yeah!" I replied, not knowing quite what to make of the news.

--

NoV: Yay! Everybody loves Brinker. Well, I do anyway…


	16. Chapter 16

NoV: Yay! School's out for summer! School's out forever!….at least until August 22nd….

--

Gene

--

Though the news had made me feel even more light-headed than before, I sat up and got out of bed. "Finny, may I speak with you for a moment?" I wondered, clamping my hand down on his shoulder.

His knees buckled and then he straightened back up. "Sure, Gene, my friend who would never kill me even if Brinker left the room," he said, comically as I put pressure on his shoulder.

"I'm gonna go downstairs and grab my stuff out of your truck, Finny," Brinker said, taking my hint.

"Here," Finny said, tossing him the keys.

As soon as Brinker closed the door behind him, I released Finny from my fatal grip. He straightened out his green "Save the Earth" t-shirt, and wondered, innocently, "What?"

"You can't just invite someone to live with us without asking me first!" I exclaimed, furious with him. "First of all, we don't have enough room. We only have two beds. Second, I'm quite sure Brinker won't enjoy having to deal with our 'lifestyle.' Third, we both paid for this place-in advance-for the year, and I doubt we're going to get Brinker to help us out. And fourth……" I couldn't come up with a solid fourth reason, though a plethora of selfish reasons came to mind.

Finny looked a little surprised by my reaction, but then answered, "Well, first of all, when we aren't sick or sleeping, we hardly spend any time in this place. You and I could share my bed and Brinker could take yours. I'm sure you won't object to _that_." He smiled at me. "Second, Brinker wouldn't be moving in with us if he didn't understand our lifestyle. Third, he already offered to buy groceries and do laundry for this whole month. And fourth, don't ever, _ever_ tell him I wear panties."

"Well, he's gonna be doing the laundry this month, I think he might find out on his own," I replied. "Plus you already said he was okay with our lifestyle, which sort of includes your panty fetish."

"Still," he said, "don't tell him."

"There's a pink pair on your bed," I informed him.

"Aah!" he sharply cried, quickly going to hide the evidence.

"Finny, this won't work!" I said. "Couldn't you have just as well brought home a puppy? They may be against the dorm rules, but we'd have a lot more space…."

"No puppy could ever replace Brinker in my heart," he said in mock seriousness.

Faltering under Finny's hypnotic power, I finally gave in. "Fine. Go ahead and let Brinker move in. And while you're at it, go invite all the homeless people and animals you come across on your way to class. Fill this tiny room to the ceiling with bodies for all I care."

"I'm glad you feel that way," Finny grinned. "Because Brinker's girlfriend is moving in too."

I was halfway to strangling the life out of him when Finny shouted, "Just kidding! Don't kill me…"

Brinker reentered the room with a messenger bag and a backpack. "Honey, I'm home!" he exclaimed.

--

NoV: Oh lord, I can only begin to imagine the shenanigans…


	17. Chapter 17

NoV: From the people who brought you, "What? Finny and Gene are gay? Yes, just accept it," here's more A Subsequent Phineas.

--

Finny

--

Brinker moving in was an idea of my own design, and I will say proudly that it was a completely and wholly flawless plan. I had been trying to contact him for some time to let him know that we had temporarily replaced him in the band and had been unsuccessful. One day when I realized that he was never going to answer his cell phone, I rummaged through all of my old phonebooks. Then while looking through Gene's daily planner from high school, I found Brinker's parents' home number. Brinker's parents gave me the number of his apartment phone, which I called.

I was disappointed when, instead of Brinker, his roommate Jackson answered. Brinker was not at home, so Jackson and I talked for a few minutes. He divulged to me that Brinker was out drinking most nights and that he rarely made it home before four a.m. Brinker hadn't paid for the current month's rent and had stopped going to his classes. Jackson, being a good friend, told me that Brinker was worried about where he would go when his landlord kicked him out. He was unemployed, unaffiliated with the college, and was spending all his savings at bars. Unless he made a drastic change, he would be forced to move back home with his parents, who, oblivious to his current state, would be greatly disappointed in him when they found out.

That's where I gallantly came in to save the day. The following day, a Saturday, I drove to Sumiton University, following the directions to Brinker's apartment. Gene went home to visit his parents that weekend anyway, so I didn't have to explain where I was going.

I arrived at the apartment, a pretty nice-looking place for students, and was greeted by Jackson, who was blond and quite handsome. I confronted Brinker, who was snoozing on the couch in the previous night's attire, no doubt. I explained to him that if he transferred to Candidaes U. and found a work-study job, he could stay with Gene and me for free for a month or two. When I told him this, it was as if he had heard just the words he needed to hear. He almost cried, but being a man, stopped himself. He told me that he had no idea what he would do without me and thanked me prodigally.

As I returned home, I realized that I had no idea what I was going to do either. I knew that Gene wouldn't be thrilled to hear that I had invited an alcoholic to live with us, old friend or not. He especially wouldn't want a penniless alcoholic with no way of chipping in on expenses moving in. So that Thursday, I planned to stay home from classes, as usual, and go ahead and move Brinker in, hoping that Gene would be dumbfounded enough to accept it. However, Gene chose to stay home instead, complaining of some imaginary "sickness." As annoying as it was, I went to my classes, up until lunchtime when I met Brinker and explained the situation. Of course, broke and out of sorts as he was, Brinker couldn't afford to buy groceries and do laundry for the month, so I forwarded the money to him. Unbeknownst to Gene, my mother still sent me an allowance every month, a much larger sum than I received while living with her.

Knowing that Gene was probably still sound asleep at the dorm, Brinker and I went to surprise him. Although he did try to kill me, I was certain that he sensed that we were doing a good deed somehow, so he allowed it. I don't enjoy making up stories and lying to Gene or anyone else, but I couldn't leave Brinker out in the lurch. The way I saw it, I didn't actually lie, I just left out bits of the truth. What Gene didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

--

NoV: That was a lot of writing with no dialogue. But, it needed lots of explanation. Til nexties!


	18. Chapter 18

NoV: An update at last! Cuz you know you love it… I don't own ASP, or Ipods. 

--

Third Person

--

For three weeks Brinker had been living with them. He had found a work-study job at the campus tour center and was enrolled in two classes, history and archaeology. So far, under Finny's guidance and Gene's scrutiny, he had been faithful in his duties to work, school and the laundry. However, tensions ran high between Phineas and Gene when Brinker didn't come home from work night after night until the early morning hours.

On a Monday night, it didn't seem strange to either one of them that it was one o'clock and Brinker still wasn't home, but because of upcoming midterms and fatigue, Gene had just about had enough. "Finny, I'm going to bed. Okay? You go to sleep too. Don't wait up all night because you'll keep me up too," Gene remarked, running a hand through his hair as he slipped into bed.

Finny, his eyes glued to the computer screen, replied, "I can't sleep. Not until Brinker's back. I worry too much…"

"You're not his mother, as much as you're acting like it," Gene said, sharply. "At least turn off the damn computer, the glow is hurting my eyes."

"Hey, I'm doing research," Finny protested.

Gene leaned forward to catch a glimpse of what his athletic friend was "researching." He scoffed. "Um, Fin, at one am, I might let you research something for class like ancient literature or abnormal psychology. But not music for your Ipod."

"How can I be expected to go to class without music to listen to?" Finny wondered.

Gene sat up in bed and turned the lamp on. "God, I knew that Brinker would be nothing but trouble. But you had to be Mister Bleeding Heart of America and go and rescue all the people that you figure need your help. Brinker didn't ask for help. He was doing just fine! Why do you have to go and stick your nose in everyone's business?"

"You could have said no! You could have told Brinker he couldn't move in," Finny asserted. "But you didn't. And do you know why?" He had now swiveled in his chair to face Gene. "Because you wanted to help him too."

"I let him because you talked me into it," Gene replied. "If you use your gift of manipulation and suggestion for evil, then you should be ashamed."

"I use my….abilities for good, never evil!" Finny said, almost jokingly. The escalation of the situation had gone farther than he was comfortable with. His first loyalty was to Gene, and he didn't want to make him uncomfortable. But, he had already promised Brinker that he could stay with them, and if he went back on that promise, they might never see their friend again.

"Well, why don't you use your 'abilities' for good, and go find Brinker, wherever the hell he is?" Gene demanded. "Then maybe I'll be able to sleep with both of you out of my hair."

"Fine!" Finny said. He got up from the chair, and still in his pajamas, grabbed a light jacket and went to the door. Opening it, he called back to Gene, "Pleasant dreams!"

Hearing the door slam, Gene sighed. "Great. Now I'm too worried to sleep."

--

Finny trudged down the hallway, regretting his harshness toward Gene, but knowing that it could get worse if he stayed. He had a fairly good idea of which bars Brinker frequented and planned to check for his friend.

As he made it outside and approached the parking garage, Finny realized that he had left his keys upstairs. Shrugging in silence, he decided that two of the bars were just a few blocks away. The first was near a busy nightclub, so it should be pretty safe for him to walk downtown at this hour.

"Brrrr…" Finny muttered, wrapping the thin jacket around himself tightly. He had no idea that it would be this windy and chilly this time of year. He quickened his pace as he crossed the street against the light, seeing the bar next to the dance club in the distance. Passing swiftly by deserted or inhabited alleyways, Finny suddenly regretted not bringing his truck with him. One alley seemed to be paved with passed out drunks and druggies, and homeless people looking for shelter from the wind.

Just as Finny was within sprinting distance of the first bar, he suddenly felt a presence and heard the sound of shoes and the swish of fabric closing in on him. Before he had a chance to react, he felt a forceful arm grab him and firmly grip his shoulders. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the glint of a metallic object, presumably a knife.

"Make one sound and I'll kill you," a grungy voice promised.

_Oh shit!_

--

NoV: Dun dun dun! Oh no poor Finny, what will happen? Yay for updates!


	19. Chapter 19

NoV: Oh, such a quick update. Hey, we're all anxious to see what happens, right?

--

Third Person

--

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Finny tried to relax and step away from the situation in his mind. After all, it had worked when he broke his leg, effectively leaving the pain and concentrating on more peaceful things. Like holding Gene's hand. But this time it didn't seem to work, as he could only see images of himself lying in an alley bleeding to death, screaming and cursing where no one would hear him.

The grip around his shoulders tightened and the man pulled him into the alley with him. As the shadows surrounded them, quenching out the inviting lights from the sidewalk, the man effortlessly shoved Finny against the brick wall of the building. Finny gazed into the face of his assailant. Dark hair, wild eyes, sharp features. He was apparently very desperate for another fix of some sort because he demanded that Phineas hand over his money.

_Oh, shit_, Finny thought. _No wallet…. _"Uh…." Finny struggled to find his voice, hoping that this frantic man wouldn't stab him. "Look, dude, I….I left my wallet at home….I didn't think I'd need it…."

The man suddenly pressed his knife against Finny's throat, threateningly. "That was stupid," he growled.

"Oh, please don't kill me," Finny pleaded. "I'm—I'm just a college student….and a liberal! I'm pro-welfare! I'm trying to give back!"

"Don't insult me you little punk," the man said, not removing the knife. "We'll just have to go get your wallet…."

"That may be a bad idea…." Finny quietly confessed. "See my….my roommate's a conservative….and he's against me being stabbed or hijacked. He once called the police because our neighbors were playing their music too loud." Finny laughed nervously.

The man didn't smile or move at all. He kept his intense stare locked onto his victim.

"But, tell you what," Finny incited. "Why don't we go to that bar across the street and I'll buy you a drink…..o-on my friend's tab."

"Your watch."

"Wha?"

"Give me your watch, stupid!"

"Oh!" Finny obliged, feeling what he thought was premature relief. He unhooked the watch from his wrist. "Sure, take it," he insisted. "I don't even like it!"

The man gave him a suspicious look.

"I mean, I'm sure it'll be worth a lot of money at the pawn shop," he said with a gulp.

The man eyed the watch affably. "This real gold?" he wondered.

"….I really have no idea," Finny admitted. "It was a gift."

"From who, your girlfriend?"

"No, my aunt," Finny replied, wondering why this man was still intimidating him with the knife. "Don't have a girlfriend."

The man chuckled. "You're better off."

Finny shrugged. _God please don't let this man kill me_…

Stuffing Finny's watch into his pocket, the man slowly lowered the knife from Finny's throat. Just as Finny breathed a sigh of relief, the man made a quick jab with the knife toward Finny's stomach, but stopped short causing poor Finny to recoil with fright.

Finny, too shocked to move, was somewhat offended when the man laughed at him. "Flincher," he muttered as he took off down the alley. Finny could only stand there, staring and shaking his head at what had just happened. Five minutes passed and still he stood there, his head spinning in disbelief. It was the mere thought of a repeat mugging that finally drove him to leave the alley.

--

Gene, finding that none of his friends were on his IM board, sighed and turned off the computer. It had been half an hour since Finny had stormed out. Correction, since he _made_ Finny storm out. He had always hated when they fought, even before when they were just friends. Now the fights were even messier because of the relationship etiquette that had to be maintained. Brinker had only helped to complicate things. Gene did like Brinker, he loved him dearly as old friends do. But his moving in was a huge mistake and it was making it hard for Gene to tolerate Finny.

Gene silently stared at the ceiling, mulling over the concept of leaving the dorm to find where Finny had gone. He debated the idea, wondering how much his lover would resent him coming out to find him when he probably wanted to be left alone. On the other hand, it was late, and it was downtown. Gene's tendency to assume the worst in situations began to play out several grim scenarios that could befall his friend.

Gene looked to the door, as if expecting it to open. Before he could change his mind, he put on a sweater and left the dorm.

--

NoV: Yay, update! ….I'm a little disappointed with this for some reason….if it seems weird to you, let me know and I can tweak it. But otherwise I hope you enjoyed!


	20. Chapter 20

NoV: Nothing much to say today….hmm… 

Thanks to Hailme! No worries, you're not demanding, I appreciate the feedback, kiddo!

And thanks to all my reviewers, you're what makes the world go round!

--

Gene walked briskly out of the building and onto the sidewalk. Having seen Finny's keys still on the desk when he left, he theorized that his athletic companion couldn't have gotten too far. There were two places that Gene decided he could be. If he was ruffled about the argument and just wanted to be alone for awhile, he would've gone to Midnight Sushi to drown his annoyance is a seaweed wrap. However, if he were genuinely out looking for Brinker, he'd be at a bar, weaving through bodies on the overcrowded dance floor filled with insomniac students.

Gene hated being out on the street at this hour. Lots of shady characters came out and hid out, conducting seedy business behind alleys. He was careful to stay on the outside of the sidewalk, just so no one could sneak up on him too easily. He knew he wasn't as muscular and able to fight off an attacker as Finny was.

With a sigh, Gene saw his breath in the air and shivered from the cool air. He decided to stop off at Park's, the self-proclaimed student bar, since it was two blocks closer than Midnight Sushi and in a relatively safe neighborhood. As he regrettably jaywalked across the street, Gene could hear (and somewhat feel) the throbbing music from Cave 9, the nightclub next-door.

He opened the door to the bar and was hit with a soothing heated room temperature. Feeling uneasy, as he didn't frequent the nightlife, Gene walked into the room, scanning it for Phineas or Brinker. He saw a few people dancing uncoordinated to some rock song he hadn't heard. A few more were sitting at tables, drinking and making conversation….or making out. Something he hadn't gotten to do for a while now. He looked over to the bar where two or three people were waiting for drinks, and one Phineas was sitting on a stool with his head on the bar. Gene smiled. What a sight Finny was. Out in the middle of the night with blue pinstripe pajama pants, a green tank top with his jacket tied around his waist. His hair looked quite unkempt and he had a glass of neglected orange liquid in his hand.

Gene came to sit next to him, setting his hands on the bar quietly. "Hey stranger," he said, startling Finny out of his stupor.

Finny shot up and sat straight. Gene noticed with a touch of guilt that Finny's eyes were red and puffy. Finny sighed in mock relief. "Oh, good, I wasn't in the mood for someone to hit on me."

"Hey, yourself," Gene said. "What's that you're drinking."

"Orange juice," Finny said, shrugging. "Even if I wasn't underage, I forgot my wallet and my ID."

"So, then how did you plan to pay for it?" Gene wondered.

"Put it on Brinker's tab."

"Oh, is he here?" Gene asked, looking around.

"Yeah, he just went to the bathroom. Seemed less intoxicated than usual," Finny replied sniffling.

Gene put his hand on Finny's back comfortingly. "I'm sorry I yelled at you….." he said.

Finny shook his head, looking down. "No, no, it was my fault…..it's nothing."

Gene could tell that something else was bothering Finny. "Did something happen?" he wondered. "No, a better question is what happened?"

Finny looked up into the worrying eyes of his lover. If he told the truth, then Gene would get all worked up and treat him like a baby, probably never leave him alone ever again. But if he told a lie, then he would be hurting their trust. Of course, it wouldn't hurt to have Gene sympathizing with him over the incident. He did want to talk about it.

Silently, he turned away from Gene and whispered, "Guy stole my watch….."

Gene stared at him, confused. "What, off your wrist?"

Finny glanced back at him briefly. "No…..I set it down for a minute….." he replied.

Now Gene was baffled. Finny didn't even like that watch. In fact he was looking for an excuse to get a new one. He couldn't understand why Finny was so upset over a small thing like this. If Finny were a girl, Gene might suspect those fateful five days of every month in which every boyfriend must embrace his mortality, but that was (thankfully) not the case.

"I'm sorry," Gene finally said, hugging his friend. "Tomorrow we'll go buy a new one, okay?"

Finny brightened considerably. "First thing in the morning?"

Gene narrowed his eyes. "No, Finny, _after_ class."

Finny grumbled playfully, then sighed. "Ah, where is Brinker?"


	21. Chapter 21

NoV: Yep's been awhile since I've updated. This could be the last update for awhile…I'm working on other stories, plus work and school….so, remind me once and a while and I'll try to update this, k?

--

Two days later—band practice

--

Finny was running amok setting up equipment and making sure everyone was ready to go. Brinker had decided to permanently give up his band position to Mallory. He either wanted to spend his free time studying, or he just didn't want to get involved with something that he'd eventually have to give up. Gene's patience with their houseguest was growing thin. Every morning, very early, he'd wake them both up when he stumbled into the dorm after spending the night drinking out at the bars. Finny couldn't go back to sleep after that and stayed on the computer all morning until time for class when he finally got back to bed.

"So," Finny said, screwing the drumset together, "I think I want to change the band's name."

Gene rolled his eyes. "To what?"

"Well, I mean we're not the same band anymore," Finny explained, not answering the initial question right away. "We should change the name, shouldn't we?"

"What was the old name?" Mallory wondered. She strummed her bass, tuning it.

"Eclectic," Gene answered. "What are you changing the name to?" he asked Finny.

"Hypoallergenic," he replied, as if that were a perfectly normal answer.

"….and why?" Gene said.

"I don't know!" Finny snapped. "Maybe I'm obsessive-compulsive and afraid of germs!"

"Fine," Gene said, throwing up his hands defensively. "Don't get so uppity."

"I wrote a new song too. I want to try and work it out today," Finny mentioned.

"Cool, what's it called?" Tabitha asked.

"Nice Shoes, Let's Fuck," Finny said calmly. At this point, Gene and the others realized that all was not well in Finny's world. They looked at the note sheets he handed them and played a rough version of the song. Finny belted out the lyrics, which were dirty and full of curse words.

At the end of the song, Finny just sat there, drumsticks still in his hands hovering over the drums. Tabitha and Mallory gaped at him, their mouths open in shock. Gene set his guitar down and went to Finny. He gently took his friend by the arm, saying, "Come with me." Finny allowed himself to be taken into the adjoining room.

Gene let go of his lover once they were alone and watched him lean against the wall and slump down to half his height. "You haven't been acting like yourself since the other night when you went to find Brinker," Gene informed him. Finny stayed silent. "What happened? I know you're not telling me the whole story."

Finny hung his head, concealing his eyes under his long bangs. "It wasn't that," he said softly. "I mean…..at first it was, but then….I just…." He couldn't continue. Gene heard a hushed sob escape him.

"You've got to tell me what's wrong," Gene said, getting closer to him. "I won't know how to help if you don't." For once, Gene wasn't conjuring up any unreal scenarios that his friend may be involved in. For once, he had no idea what was wrong.

"You're right," Finny said after a long pause. "And I want to tell you everything….and I didn't when I should have…..a guy did steal my watch the other night, but not because I set it down. Some guy mugged me in an alley while I was on my way to the bar."

"Oh my god," Gene whispered, stooping down and wrapping his disconcerted companion into a loving hug. "I—I—people suck," Gene finally said, not knowing what he should say at this point. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" This thought made Gene's breath catch in his throat. God, Finny had been through so much pain in the last year and he never deserved any of it….

"I could have handled it," Finny went on. He didn't act like he had heard any of what Gene had said. "I could have kept it to myself and you wouldn't find out…..you wouldn't worry….."

Gene shook his head. "I love you, Finny. There's no way I couldn't worry about you."

Finny took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "But then, Mom called me yesterday….." He paused for what seemed like twenty minutes before he finally said, "She has cancer."

Gene's stomach flopped. He felt tears stinging his eyes. "Oh god…..I'm so sorry…."

Finny buried his face in Gene's arm, rubbing away a few of his owns tears. Looking back up again, he said, "Lung cancer…..she smokes and I didn't even know…..doctor said…." He began to choke on his sobs, but tried to continue. "….she's got three months…..three fucking months….."

Gene opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't find a single word. He shook his head over and over, staring into Finny's eyes, which were looking elsewhere, dazed. Finally, Gene just pulled his lover closer to him and held him, wishing that holding onto him would make all the bad things go away.

--

NoV: Ooh, a dramatic turn! What shall we do?? 'Nice Shoes, Let's Fuck' belongs to my Lit teacher's band Tankini, which I do not own but shall forever be amazed by.


	22. Chapter 22

Woot, woot! I'm updating!! 0.0

--

Gene sat peacefully on a Monday night at the desk in the small dorm room that he usually shared with Brinker and Finny. He looked from his paper to the computer screen, then back to the paper again, typing all the while. Finally he was getting a little time to himself to write a research paper to the best of his ability. He had already cleansed the room of Finny's junk, putting the bulk of it into a neat pile, throwing away old candy wrappers and soda cans. It seemed probable that with the amount of time Finny seemed to spend in the apartment, the blond would have some time for cleaning. But it was only now, when Finny was away that _Gene_ had time to clean up.

Finny had gone to be with his mother for the weekend. He hadn't visited her since the semester began and rarely spoke with her on the phone. That had seemed to compound into his despair over hearing that she had cancer, therefore creating guilt. Gene had offered to go with him, but knew he would be refused, realizing himself that he would be intruding on something very private and emotional.

Brinker was expected back from his history class at any moment, assuming he'd actually gone to the class. Finny would be coming in later that night, ready to skip Tuesday morning's class, no doubt. Gene sighed to himself. Was he the only one with any responsibility? He mulled over the grammar of a sentence in his paper for a few moments, then clicked print. He had a quick toss-up in his head between going to the gym and taking a nap. He decidedly crashed onto his lonelier-by-the-minute bed and shut his eyes.

--

He was awoken again by foreign sounds on his right side. Squinting in the now bright light, he spied Brinker unloading his drawer of clothes and placing them inside a suitcase. "Hey, Brink," Gene said groggily. "What're ya doin?"

Brinker turned to him with a quirky smile. "Well, I'm starting to feel a little too much like a bum here, so I found a little apartment about three blocks from here. I move out tomorrow."

Gene could only blink at this strange prospect. "Does Finny know?" was his one concern.

"Well, not yet but he does come back tonight, right?" Brinker replied.

"Yeah…..how do you think he'll take it?" Gene asked.

"Same way he takes everything, I guess," Brinker said cagily. "Unpredictably."

Gene snorted, knowing exactly what Brinker meant.

--

The sound of a key turning in the lock alerted Gene and Brinker to Finny's return at eight pm. The door slowly opened and Finny entered, carrying only a duffel bag and his keys in his hand.

"Hey guys!" he exclaimed, his gloom having been abducted from his personality completely. Gene noticed with faint surprise that Finny had gotten a haircut over the long weekend. It had definitely improved from the recent shag it had become accustomed to, but it was just about the shortest Gene had ever seen it. With a flinch of his lip, Gene decided that he liked it.

Before he could question or comment on the new look, Finny stunned him with a sudden kiss on the lips, leaning over him where he sat on the bed. Once the kiss was broken, Gene shied away for a moment, gauging Brinker's reaction. They had never kissed in front of Brinker, or anyone for that matter. But Brinker was politely looking at a book in front of him.

Finny, who had initiated the action, continued about without hesitation. He turned to greet Brinker and took stock of the packed suitcase and the couple of boxes taped closed near Brinker's bed. "What's going on?" the blond wondered. "We get a new roomie?"

"Actually, you got one less roomie," Brinker said congenially. "I don't wanna mooch off you guys anymore than I have to. I do have a reputation, you know."

"But, where will you go?" Finny asked quietly, sounding for all the world like an abandoned child.

"Hey, don't worry about me!" Brinker said. He stood and patted Finny on the back. "I already got an apartment set up. Just two streets over and twice as big as this place!"

Finny gave a small laugh. "Maybe we should be moving in with Brinker," he said to Gene.

Gene made a choking sound, pretending to balk at the suggestion. "No, I think not."

--

Finny, since he owned a truck, offered to help Brinker move his few belongings into the new apartment. Gene was absolutely flabbergasted, however, when Finny insisted that they handle the task with enough time for Finny and Gene to get to their nine o'clock class. It was one of those moments when Gene wanted to rip off the mask off the person in front of him and demand to know what had happened to the real Phineas. But, instead he crammed a waffle into his mouth and tagged along to give what little help he could, although he was itching for a moment alone with Finny to inquire about the visit with his mother.

And then, an hour later, Gene sat staring at his roommate sitting in the classroom and taking notes, seemingly engrossed in the topic of the lecture: the history of the 1800s. _If this is a dream, _Gene thought, _it sure as hell is a boring one._

_--_

NoV: Can't believe I finally updated! Stay with me, oh muse!


	23. Chapter 23

NoV: Hello all! Another chapter I will write for you. .

--

At their lunch break, Finny and Gene went to eat at one of the campus restaurants. Finny ordered a veggie wrap, still firm in his vegetarianism, while Gene bought chili cheese fries, assuring himself that Finny would snag a couple that the chili hadn't touched. They sat across from each other at a table near a window, since Finny enjoyed the view of the students milling around outside.

"So," Gene said softly, "how is your mom?"

Finny stared out the window as he cut into his veggie wrap with a plastic fork. He pondered the question for a while before finally looking up to meet Gene's eyes. "She's the same. She looked and acted the same way she has my whole life. I don't know….I guess I expected for her to be depressed or….in pain, but she wasn't. I mean, if she was, it didn't show." Finny took his time taking in a breath through his nose, seeming to use it to heal some part of him in the process. "It was like nothing at all had changed." He and Gene sat in silence for a beat and Finny ended it with, "I want to be like that. I'm tired of making such a big deal out of nothing…..There's no way of knowing if we'll be here tomorrow, so today I want to live."

Gene swallowed past the thickness in his throat and nodded silently. Then, feeling the need to crack a joke at the seriousness of his friend's words, he said, "And you call going to history class living?"

Finny snorted and took a bite of his wrap.

--

"Where are you going?" Gene wondered. He lay reclining on his bed with a popsicle in one hand and the _Bhagavad Gita_ in the other.

Finny had just emerged from the bathroom, seemingly dressed and ready to head out the door. "To the gym," he replied. "Join me?"

Gene contemplated for only half a second. "I'm too sticky," he said, indicating the popsicle.

Finny couldn't resist Gene's blue-tinted lips. He crossed the room and gave him a farewell kiss. Turning to leave, he licked his lips, the sticky residue remaining. "Blue raspberry, my favorite!"

--

NoV: Yes, so very short, but I'm trying!!


	24. Chapter 24

NoV: Wow…it has seriously been two and a half years since I've updated this story. I am so sad about that. But, the good news is, I'm updating it now. Hopefully some of my old readers will find this and some new readers will too!

**

Finny

**

A little fatigued, I left the gym. The cold air hitting my sweaty body caused me to shiver, so I walked a little faster toward the dorms.

"Hey, Finny!" a voice called from far away.

I ventured a look in the direction of the voice and saw Brinker, in his warm coat and long pants, running across the street to talk to me. Although half-frozen, I waited with a smile. "How're you liking the new apartment?" I asked once he was close enough.

"It's pretty nice. I love having all that space. I think I might get a cat," he joked. "I bet you and Gene are enjoying having your place back, huh?"

"Ah, it's really not that different," I said, wiping my runny nose. "The three of us were hardly all there at the same time anyway." A beat went by without him making any comment, so I said, "You on your way home?"

"Thought I might go home and celebrate," he shrugged. "Sort of a christening of the new apartment. You wanna come with me?"

I weighed the options and said, "Sounds good. I'll call Gene and see if he wants to come." I got out my cell phone and tried calling him but got no answer. I sent him a text, letting him know where I was going and that he should join if he wanted. I thought it was pretty strange that he didn't answer his phone. It was only ten, so surely he wasn't sleeping already.

**

Well, as I could have guessed, Brinker wanted to celebrate in his usual way. He pulled a massive bottle of vodka out of his freezer, along with two coffee cups and a gallon of orange juice. "Screwdriver okay with you?" he asked. "It's kind of all that I have…"

"Sure," I replied. Now, I realized that this was a Tuesday night, and that I had a nine o'clock class the next morning. But I had recently adopted the philosophy of living in the moment, of taking what life presented to me. I never wanted to pass up the opportunity to have an experience. Now that I think of it, it sounds kind of like an excuse…

**

The next day when I woke up, I felt completely drained, as if I hadn't gotten any sleep at all. I had a hangover headache, I felt nauseous, and for some reason I was stretched out on the middle of Brinker's hardwood floor. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and made a couple of upsetting discoveries. First, it was already one o'clock in the afternoon. I had missed the majority of my classes the week before midterms. Then I saw that I had five new voicemails and eight missed calls—all from Gene.

Pulling on my shoes, I headed out the door, not even looking around for Brinker first. I listened to three of my messages, most of them in the gist of, "Shit, why won't you answer your phone? Why are you doing this to me? I'm so fucking worried!"

Before I could get to the fourth message, my phone went dead. "Shit," I said out loud, hurrying across the street. I just needed to get to my phone charger so I could call Gene and calm him down. Brinker only lived four blocks from the dorm, so I began sprinting.

My ribs heaved with my breath as I rode the elevator up to our floor. I fumbled with my keys as I approached the door. As I was about to insert the key, the door swung open. Gene stood in the doorway, looking half-dead. He hadn't slept, and he had skipped classes. He had a brief look of relief, which melted in him being pissed off. He turned and fumed back into the room. To his credit, he didn't slam the door on me.

I entered the room, trying not to make any noise. "I'm sorry, I must've slept through all your phones calls," I explained.

"Where the hell were you?" he asked lowly, not looking at me.

"At Brinker's. Didn't you get my text?"

"No, I didn't." Still not looking at me.

I checked my outbox to see that the message hadn't been sent. "Shit," I said. "Well, I tried to send you a text, but I must've been in a spotty coverage area."

"What were you doing at Brinker's?"

He met my gaze, and all of a sudden I wished he would look away again. "We were just having a few drinks…he wanted to celebrate the new apartment."

He suddenly rose to his feet and moved toward me almost fiercely. "Do you know what I went through last night? Do you even care?" he spat. "I started calling around midnight, since that's when the gym closes. I got no answer, so I waited. Called a few more times. I was so worried about you. I didn't know if you were sick, or hurt, or fucking robbed again! I got in a cab and rode around looking for you. The driver must have thought I was a nutcase, crying and holding your jacket."

My eyes watered a little. "I'm so, so sorry…I thought I had sent a message…I got a little wasted, lost track of time. I fell asleep. I didn't mean to do anything to hurt you."

"That's just it, Finny," Gene said coldly. "You never mean to do any of the crap that you do to me. But I'm sick of it."

He turned away from me and my heart beat rapidly.

"I can't do this anymore," he said quietly. "You're gonna have to find a new roommate." He looked back at me and his eyes told me that I was about to lose much more than a roommate. "I'll be back later to pack," he almost whispered.

He walked out that door without even saying goodbye. And I was powerless to stop him.

**

NoV: yay! First chapter in soooo long! And lots of angst. But, be of good cheer! There's lots more angst next time! Wahaha!


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